


The Jumper

by Devona_Dil



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Exchange, Andreil softness, Christmas-y fic, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Winter Round
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devona_Dil/pseuds/Devona_Dil
Summary: When Andrew sees the jumper, he has half a mind to burn it.





	The Jumper

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution for the AFTG Winter Exchange, for @one-eyed-kaneki-kun

The past month had seen the transition from autumn leaves to bare trees, but standing here, on the Foxes rooftop surrounded by flurries of swirling snowflakes… there’s no denying it: winter has come. And with it, the disgusting snowy crap that should either be hail or be rain. It’s gross. He couldn’t even see the sunrise, so lighting a cigarette was out of the question.

Flicking his lighter to get rid of some frustration didn’t work at all, so he ripped open the hatch and climbed back down to the dorms.

With just a note stuck on his door saying the idiot was ‘running to practise today’, Andrew’s mood took a considerable downward turn. And so, he was left to suffer through the incessant chatter of the other various Foxes alone. Today sees Aaron and Matt having what seems to be a (very loud) discussion on whether boxing is a necessary skill to have, even if you have a gun. Obvious. Kevin is busy watching a game on his Ipad, already with his earphones deeply embedded in his ears. What with the noise the crowd makes, both in person and in video, that boy’s gonna be deaf by the time he’s forty. An age that’s entirely possible now both he and Neil have that agreement with the Moriyamas. The lack of control he felt when he misplaced that certain idiot still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and Andrew clench his jaw.

They piled into the Aston Martin, already just expecting Andrew to drive them to practise. Just because he had chosen to accept his part in their stupid, pointless game, does not mean they can treat him like some run-of-the-mill taxi service… like a common Fox.

“What’s the hold up, buddy?” Nicky popped his seat belt into its holder in the front seat. Not that he has a specific person in mind who should be automatically afforded that seat; not that the bubbly presence next to him just seems wrong. For some reason, his blood just started boiling, his hands fisting the steering wheel as if it were Riko’s neck.

His ears tuned back in Nicky’s babbling when a hand reached towards his shoulder. 

Andrew lashed out and caught Nicky’s wrist in an unyielding grip. Turning around slowly, Andrew could see some of the colour in his face drain away, leaving Nicky’s neck blotchy and his skin slightly sweaty. 

“I am not your buddy,” Andrew sneered, squeezing just that little bit tighter. 

A squeaky sound emanated from Nicky’s wrist, along with some whimpering and wide eyes. Closing his eyes, Andrew took a deep breath and revelled in the silence of the car for a few precious seconds, and decidedly did not think of the reason for his little lapse in control.

Letting go of Nicky’s wrist, he started up the car, ignoring the tense silence of his passengers and also the pit in his stomach that didn’t used to be there when he threatened Nicky… not that he’d done that for a while though. Sighing, he looked over and saw his cousin crowded as far next to the car door as he could possibly get, shielding his wrist near his heart. A few sniffles could be heard, so Andrew sighed again, for which he got a flinch.

Apparently, his family’s feelings have become more important to him than they were last year… maybe he’s getting sentimental as this will be the last year of everyone playing stick-ball together. Or maybe he’s just having an off day.

Concentrating on discerning some sort of road ahead of him, through the slurry of crap falling from the sky, Andrew got them to the Court in not too bad a time, though Kevin still felt the need to bitch. As if Andrew can control the weather. His mood did not improve any, imagining Neil running through this… probably not wearing nearly enough layers. Andrew sighed. That boy has gotten under his skin, and he can feel his world expanding to include more people than he had ever imagined he could stand for so long. Josten being at the top of that list… and he’s honestly not sure how he feels about that

Battling against the elements, they all managed to get inside without any grievous injuries. Nicky walked straight over to the girls, with his puppy-dog eyes in full effect and started a, no doubt, over dramatised tale of how Andrew personally victimised him or some shit. Rolling his eyes, Andrew ignored them and searched through the drowned rats that made up his team … of which was clearly missing one vital player.

Frowning, Andrew started towards the back – silently swearing that if Neil’s not there, he’s going to kill him. With a vengeance. Then he’s going to go out and find him.

“Hold up, Andrew,” Dan started, blocking his path.

Growling, Andrew pushed past her, not in the mood to make nice with the rest of them when his-, when Neil might be out there freezing to bloody death.

Calling out to him, she said “I thought we were past this, Andrew.” Stomping towards him and getting in his face, she continued, “We’re your team and it’s bloody Christmas! I thought you were finally accepting us as your teammates – and, you know, not injuring us,” pointing to Nicky’s wrist. 

When Andrew glared at him, he immediately hid behind the much larger Matt.

Gritting his teeth, he snarled at her, “This isn’t about you. Not everything is about fucking exy. And I don’t give a shit about Christmas. Neil is missing - he pinned a note on my door this morning saying he was fucking running to practise like the idiot he is, now if you don’t mind, I need to go find him before I kill him.”

Andrew was kinda breathless after that weirdly expressive outburst. Done with the inquisition, he was just about to turn away when he caught a slight smirk on Dan’s face.

He saw red.

After many a session with Bee, Andrew knows one of his big triggers is being mocked for his true self, not the mask - seen as so weak it’s amusing. So, seeing not just Dan, but even Wymack behind her give a small smile, Andrew snapped.

Starting forward, he slipped knives out of both armbands and donned his mask again for the first time since last year.

With wide eyes, Dan threw her hands out and looked as if she was about to plead her defence when he heard a door slam behind him. Knowing only the Foxes were fool enough to practise on a day like today, there should be only one person it could be.

Keeping his knives in hand, Andrew turned slowly and what he saw, honestly, almost had him dropping them.

Stood there staring back at him with those, quite frankly, amazing blue eyes, was Neil. His Neil. Looking as he does every day, except for one minor addition… a soft, oversized light sky blue jumper with white stitched snowflakes embedded in the thread.

Andrew’s pretty sure he stopped breathing there for a minute, just staring. When he manages a flat, raspy, “What’s that,” he hears the Foxes scramble behind him.

“See he’s right there!”

“He turned up sopping wet, Andrew.”

“We couldn’t just leave him like that.”

“Come on, don’t be angry on Christmas.”

The chattering continued behind him at a low buzz, but all he could think about was the way Neil gathered the ends of his extra-long sleeves in his fists, and looked down at the floor. Embarrassed.

Andrew couldn’t be having that.

So, leaving the idiots behind him, and sheathing his knives, he walked towards Neil, purposeful in his steps until they were toe to toe. Raising his head with a finger under Neil’s chin, Andrew took in every inch of his infuriating Fox and gave himself a second to feel the relief of having Neil in front of him again, safe.

Not noticing the silence behind him, he whispered, “Yes, or no?” quietly between the gap between their faces.

Feeling the hot breath of Neil’s “Yes,” ghost over his face, Andrew leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on Neil’s chapped lips.

This time Andrew heard the gasps and barely hushed sounds of giggling exclamations from his teammates, but he didn’t turn around.

Instead he leaned into Neil’s ear, and said, “You’re keeping the jumper,” and stepped back. Out of Neil’s space, Andrew could revel in the flush staining Neil’s cheeks and his dilated eyes. Finally acknowledging the bunch of schoolchildren behind him, he turned around.

At least half of them were covering grins with their hands, but all of them were looking at him with some level of fondness… which surprisingly didn’t make his skin crawl with distain. Instead he felt something akin to acceptance (maybe some affection).

“So?” Andrew started, “Are we going to run around a plastic rectangle and try to score pointless points with nets on sticks, that inevitably mean absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things… or what?”

Neil grinned wider than any of the Foxes.

Yes. Andrew could see himself doing everything in his power to keep that smile in place.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find this fic on my [tumblr](https://dreams-of-andreil.tumblr.com/post/168941737554/the-jumper). Hoped you liked it!! Thanks for reading!! :D


End file.
